Emily had barely processed the whirlwind of the wedding before the harsh realities of her new life began to set in. She had hoped that the marriage would bring some warmth between her and Roberto, but it was like living in a cold, distant world. Even though they shared the same house, they were strangers to each other, and the isolation she felt gnawed at her. Every day felt like a step further away from the girl who had arrived in the city with nothing but dreams and hopes for a better future.
On one particular morning, as the sun poured into the room, Emily found herself once again summoned by Roberto's grandmother, Margaret. The older woman had always seemed kind, but Emily couldn't shake the feeling that she was being constantly scrutinized. Margaret had her own agenda, and Emily was part of it—though the exact role she played, Emily still couldn't fully understand.
"Take this document to Roberto. He left it on the desk," Margaret instructed, handing her a thick folder. The directness in her tone made Emily feel like a servant, yet she knew there was no point in refusing.
"Of course, ma'am," Emily said, trying to mask the frustration in her voice.
As she made her way through the corridors of the mansion, her mind wandered. She had tried her best to be a good wife, but Roberto's coldness, his detachment, made it feel like she was invisible. Still, she held onto the hope that things might change. Perhaps this task, this small act, would be a step toward breaking the ice.
Arriving at the office, Emily entered cautiously, but the moment her heels clicked against the marble floor, the whispers started. There was no mistaking it. The employees were gossiping. Whispers filled the air, and she felt their eyes on her as she moved toward Roberto's office.
"Oh, look at her, the secretary who trapped him into marriage. What did she do, seduce him? Typical," one woman whispered loudly, thinking Emily couldn't hear.
Another chimed in, "She's nothing but a gold digger. It's clear she's not one of us. She's probably still using him to climb the social ladder."
The voices continued, and each word felt like a sharp sting against her heart. Emily's face flushed crimson with humiliation, but she forced herself to keep walking. She had no choice but to endure. After all, these people were part of Roberto's world. If they judged her, perhaps he did too. But she didn't have time to entertain those thoughts—she had a job to do.
As she reached Roberto's office, she saw the door swing open. To her surprise, Roberto was standing there, looking as authoritative as ever. His eyes scanned the room, and in an instant, he noticed the tension in the air. His gaze shifted to Emily, and then back to his employees, a storm brewing behind his eyes.
"What is going on here?" Roberto's voice cut through the whispers like a knife. He stepped forward, his posture rigid, his expression furious. "Emily is my wife. She's not some outsider. You will treat her with respect. If I hear another word of this, there will be consequences."
The room fell silent. Emily couldn't believe her ears. She had never seen Roberto this angry before, and for the first time, she felt a flicker of warmth in her heart. He was defending her.
The employees exchanged nervous glances, but none dared to speak.
"Let's go home, Emily," Roberto said, his voice softer now, though his anger still simmered beneath the surface. He took a step toward her, reaching for her hand.
But just as she was about to take his hand, disaster struck. Emily's heel caught on the polished marble floor, and before she could react, her body was sent crashing to the ground. Her stomach hit the cold floor, and a sharp pain shot through her lower abdomen. She gasped in horror, feeling a gush of warmth between her legs.
"Oh my God," she whispered, panic flooding her system. Her water had broken.
Roberto's face turned pale as he rushed to her side. "Emily, what's happening? Emily, are you okay?"
"I—I think it's time," she gasped, tears starting to well in her eyes.
The room around them seemed to blur as Roberto helped her to her feet. His voice trembled with fear as he called for help. "Get the car. She's in labor. Now."
Emily's breath came in shallow gasps as Roberto guided her through the mansion and into the car. Her body ached with every movement, but all she could think of was the baby. It was too early, too sudden. Would everything be okay?